


3

by orphan_account



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Great way to introduce yourself to a fandom huh?, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, References to OT4, This May or May Not Be a Crackfic, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Even if Bill Grey can't be there, Slippy and Falco manage to take care of their leader in the only way they know how.Or, in which case, Fox has a bondage kink, Slippy gets to top the fuck out of him, and Falco watches, at least, for a little bit.





	3

**Author's Note:**

> Title of this fic was purely inspired by Britney Spears' song of the same name. You know the one. THAT one. ANYWAY.
> 
> So yeah. This was just an excuse for me to write a threesome, I guess. I was going to let Peppy make an appearance, but... I don't think I can write a daddy kink fic between him and Fox yet without laughing, or throwing up, or both. Ugh. Still, it's better than my original plan, which was to have James and Fox doing each...other. Yeah. I know. It's wrong. But fuck it. Maybe I'll write about it one day, let it be a torture fic for Fox. Whatever.
> 
> Please send help to my inbox. I think I need it.
> 
> EDIT: As of 5/22/18, I went back and fixed some weirdly worded sentences and a few grammatical errors here and there. I swear to God I proofread before I posted this, but dammit, something always manages to go under my radar, it seems. And uh, I'm also well aware that in the real world, foxes are considered to be loosely related to canines, and that canine males have knots...but for the sake of this story, Fox does not, because I didn't think about it before I posted this. Don't worry about it. It doesn't really matter. I promise.

Fox’s heart is a mallet and his rib cage is the stone, but the chains around his throat, and the handcuffs on his ankles and wrists reminds him of why he’s here, of why he needs this and why Falco and Slippy are the only ones who can give it to him. Lombardi watches him from afar, casually tipping a glass of wine to his beak, and his face is a blank mask, the only signs of life from it are when he blinks his eyes and licks the corners of his mouth in anticipation of owning the great Fox McCloud. Fox, meanwhile, is completely vulnerable and naked. These chains pinning him to the earth, or rather, less imaginatively, to the floor of the brig inside the Great Fox, can’t be broken and Fox wouldn’t even want to try and shake them. Again, he needs this—to be dominated, to be brought down a peg, but not because he’s arrogant. He likes how it feels, being fucked by an older man, though Falco isn’t that much older, just by one year. Still, the idea behind it, of getting dick from his ace pilot and then sucking him off sometimes, too, makes his own cock ache and throb out pre-cum in wanton excitement. In most of their past instances and trysts, it’s been Falco on top, Falco who’s in charge of Fox’s body and what he does with it. But that’s alright. It’s always been alright and it always will be. Fox likes being on the bottom, likes it when Falco stuffs him full until he’s not sure where he starts and the avian’s dick ends. And sometimes, they let Slippy and Bill join in, too. There was a time where Falco was buried balls deep in Fox’s ass from behind, the vulpine bracing himself on the floor on one hand and both knees, the other hand busy jerking Slippy off, with the frog eventually cuming on Fox’s face, and Fox meanwhile sucking Bill off by sticking his swollen tongue into the dog’s slit until Bill soaked the inside of his throat with his seed, and he’d kept his mouth and hand on Bill and Slippy respectively, sucking and pumping them through their orgasms until Falco had made a mess of Fox’s backside and abused hole and they’d all been too worn out to continue or do more. That had been a good one. Another goal of Fox’s is for him to convince ol’ Peppy to fuck the daylights out of him or to be on board with the vulpine just sucking him off to fruition. He’s got a daddy kink he’s itching to try out with the old hare, and even though many people mistake Peppy Hare as being rotund and unnecessarily fat, he’s really not. He’s got some muscle on him somewhere, and Fox wants to feel it rutting against him someday. That, and finally getting a taste of the old rabbit in his mouth. Not that he wouldn’t mind experiencing both. But patience is key, and he’d never try and get his dad’s former wingman drunk enough to try it out. Fox is a gentleman like that, you see. He just needs to work up the courage to ask Peppy if he’d be willing to go through with it, of course. Falco wouldn’t mind having a go at the hare either, and Slippy thinks it would be fun if all five of them got to fuck each other’s brains out in what he deemed would be “the best orgy in Cornerian history.” So really, all three of them wanted to fuck Peppy. Bill does, too, though, perhaps a little uncharacteristically, he’d been the one asking how a fivesome would even work.

Back in the present, with the chains hooked to him the way they are, Fox is forced to rest on his knees, his ankles are firmly shackled to the wall he sits in front of and his arms are painfully floating above his head with his bare ass sitting on his aching calf muscles, the little fibers inside of them crying out for the blood that can’t reach them while he’s in this mock crucifictionesque pose, and the giant pronged collar attached around his throat makes it hard to breathe and hurts him any time he tries to crane his neck back to see what Slippy’s fucking around with behind him. His dick is oozing pre-cum on the hard floor and he just wants someone to _touch_ him, for stars’ sake. They always do this—tease his nerves mercilessly because they know he’s super sensitive. Falco likes to rub the vulpine’s back and peck at his neck when they do it doggy style. Slippy is a combination of sweet and sensual, licking the inside of Fox’s ears (Slippy’s long tongue is fucking _perfect_ for doing that, by the way), or cooing to him whenever Falco has to stretch him open. Bill likes to run his hands through the fur atop Fox’s head whenever the latter is sucking his dick, or, on occasion, eating the vulpine out while Falco and Slippy play with his sac. But Bill’s out on an environmental survey on Fichina, so the bird and the frog have Fox all to theirselves. The two of them have already decided who will be fucking Fox tonight, and it’s going to be Slippy. But Falco won’t be satisfied just by watching it happen, no. He’s going to suck Fox off while Slippy’s stretching him, of course. Fox doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to. The gag collar in Fox’s mouth leaves it to where he can only whimper, but not speak. He’s out on full display for his lovers to see, and Falco finds it incredibly hot to see his leader bound and gagged like this, helpless and lusty, turned on and desperate to be fondled and touched.

“You ready over there, Slip?” Falco asks him, and the frog gives an enthusiastic thumbs up as he holds a bottle of unopened lube in the other. Falco grins. It’s time.

Falco approaches his leader, loving how Fox arches his back when he gets close, how debauched he looks. Fox’s eyes plead with him, begging to be touched. Slippy has to suppress a laugh when Falco smiles up at him. The bottle of lube he’s holding is one of his own creations, something he cooked up just for this specific tryst. And Slippy made it with Fox’s body in mind, knowing that stretching was painful considering how many times he’d had to shush Fox’s agonized cries with kisses when Falco was doing the stretching. Not that that was him saying that Falco was insensitive or rough. Because he wasn’t. But Fox’s entrance was small and tight, and Falco, Slippy, and Bill were all bigger in girth than him, especially with Bill because he had a knot. Slippy’s thought about his own, how he’s more wide than he is long, and customized his own brand of lube to make it pleasurable when he feeds himself inside of Fox inch by inch. Falco takes Fox by the chin, forcing his head up even more, and Slippy can’t wait to get started. Falco leans down to where he’s inches from Fox’s face, and his voice is dark and husky when he speaks.

“Tonight’s your lucky night, McCloud. See, ‘cause I’m so tired of fucking your sloppy ass, good ol’ Slip here’s offered to open up that loose hole of yours himself, so be the good little cock slut that you are and give his cock a good home. But don’t you worry, babe. . . I’m not gonna leave while he fucks you, no,” Falco says to him, and Fox’s pupils are blown so wide they look like black orbs. He’s so fucking eager. “While Slippy’s fucking your brains out, I’m gonna be enjoying the show. But you don’t get to cum until Slippy does. Capiche?” Fox nods quickly. That pleases Falco. “Good boy. Now, Slippy. Go ahead. Show Foxy what you made for him.”

Slippy has never been inside him before. Fox still can’t look behind him, so all he can hear is the loud _clack!_ of a bottle of lube being opened. Fox can feel his anxious heartbeats vibrating his chest, but there’s anticipation in his nervousness, too. He’s handled Slippy’s dick before, so he knows how big it is. Slippy’s cock is smooth to the touch and green at the shaft topped off with a strawberry pink head. There’s a vein underneath it that Fox had felt throb in his fingers when he’d brought the frog off just with one hand before now. He wonders though what Falco meant by Slippy showing Fox what he made for him. Fox can’t ponder on it long, however, because Slippy is suddenly trying to stick a warmed up finger inside his puckered entrance. Fox lets out a startled but pleasured yelp when Slippy holds his tail up, getting better access to his ass. Fox lets his eyes roll back in his head when the finger starts swirling around inside him. This lube isn’t cold like the others they use are, but wonderfully thick and at a comfortable temperature for him to get used to. Slippy jabs another finger inside, and then another, pushing through Fox’s tight hole as the latter starts to buck slightly from the movements. It’s around this time that Falco descends on him, sucking the head of Fox into his mouth and making the vulpine let out a muffled groan around the ball trapped behind his teeth.

“See how good that feels?” Slippy says sweetly to him, still fingering him. “I made this lube just for you, Foxy. I hope you like it. Now, just open up for me. There you go. Don’t worry. Gonna get you all wet and loose for me, and then things are gonna be euphoric. I promise.”

Fox nods as best he can, and Falco’s still lapping at him. If Bill were here, he’d be fondling the vulpine’s mouth and ears, no doubt. He surges upwards, yanking on his chains when Slippy grazes over his prostate and Falco’s tongue starts teasing his slit. Slippy pulls him back down, and Falco pinches his thigh—Fox whines low in his throat, stuck, wanting to be able to kiss Falco, at least. But the avian’s mouth is otherwise occupied. And Falco is intoxicated by the taste of him. Fox tastes like leather, and his pre-cum isn’t too salty. He’s gushing without remorse, already on the plateau of orgasm. Falco slobbers up and down the shaft, trying his best to distract Fox from the stretching he knows sometimes makes him feel uncomfortable in bed—Slippy’s alternating sharp jabs at his prostate to just stroking the muscles leading up to his hole, driving him insane, making his body jerk as it didn’t know how to handle all this excess pleasure. Slippy removes them, gets a little more lube, and goes at him again. Fox can’t decide which direction to thrust in, in front of or behind him. How birds can manage oral sex with their beaks, Fox will never know. But Falco slides off him and grabs his cock, shifting it upwards rather roughly and eliciting a startled moan from Fox’s mouth. He dives underneath, massaging Fox’s quivering orbs, and Fox looks up at the ceiling in desperation.

Just as quickly as his mouth moves to a new part of him, Slippy motions for Falco to stop, that Fox is finally slicked up enough to his liking. Falco concedes, pulling off of Fox’s nuts with an audible _pop_ , and Fox whines at the loss of blessed contact. He had been so close right then! Fox looked at Falco, who was licking his lips eagerly, and Fox’s navel jumped despite his apparent disappointment at being delayed his orgasm. But he would have to wait for Slippy. That was the deal.

“Take the collar off of him, Falco,” Slippy says gently, looking at the bird. “Not the gag, but the—yeah, that. I want him to put his head on my shoulder without it hurting him. Good. Alright, Foxy, you ready?” Slippy asked him tenderly, snuggling into the vulpine’s neck now that the pronged metal choker was gone. Fox nods in a slight daze. Slippy pulls back and grins at him. “Okay. I’ll go slow. You just rest your head on my shoulder and don’t think about anything else but how you feel. Make all the noise you want. And if anything starts to hurt, you just let me know. Oh, so good to me, Foxy.”

Slippy quickly undresses and presses the tip of his cock to Fox’s entrance, and feeds the first inch of himself inside. It’s more of a dull pressure than an actual ache. Fox leans his head back on the frog’s shoulder, pleasing Slippy greatly and getting a kiss to his jugular for his efforts. Falco moves away with the pronged collar in his hand, smiling to himself as Slippy gets to work. He sits back down, grabs his wine, and enjoys the show. Fox may not be able to touch himself, but his ass is on the way to being filled like he wants. Slippy pulls out gently, then shimmies his hips to get more of himself inside Fox, trying to still be sweet and gentle like Fox deserves even if his cock and balls are screaming at him to rut with reckless abandon. The head of it is squeezing past the oversensitive muscles at the vulpine’s rim, and the pleasure is starting to mount, gradually. The lubrication Slippy used is soft like jelly, and it’s been engineered as a nerve agent, but a good one, an artificial aphrodisiac that’ll heighten whatever they’re feeling while their bodies are locked together times ten.

Fox wishes Falco would move back closer towards him again, wanting to suck on the protruding erection that’s peeking through the avian’s pants. Fox’s own dick is still throbbing out pre-cum, there’s a tingling in his balls that he’s never experienced before, and the jelly-like lube inside him tickles his hole. Slippy finally sheathes himself to the hilt inside Fox, and they both groan at the feeling. Slippy’s heart is thrumming against Fox’s back and Fox squeezes around the thick girth inside him. That punches a loud moan out of the frog’s mouth, and he involuntarily gives the first shallow thrust of experimentation. Fox shakes, feeling the amphibian’s cockhead barely poke at that little bundle of nerves deep inside him. There’s drool on the ball in his mouth and his dick is an exclamation point to his arousal. Slippy gets braver, more confident, and his hips start gathering a slow momentum. The sounds leaving Fox are definitely ones of pleasure, even if they are a little bit quiet, but that’s only because Slippy _really_ hasn’t gotten started yet.

With Fox properly held down, Slippy lets a hand drift down to the vulpine’s pulsing member. He remembers that one time long ago when it had been all four of them, Slippy himself, Fox, Falco, and Bill, one of the rare instances when the dog hadn’t been stationed in a Cornerian military base somewhere that the Star Fox team had never been before. Slippy is a very social and sensual creature, he likes being touched, and he loves to kiss especially. Fox’s entire body is heated up, an enthralling feeling for a cold-blooded creature like Slippy Toad. He doesn’t want to just hit it and quit it, like Fox is nothing but a one-night stand. He wants to convey how much he loves him. This is his first time fucking Fox, and he doesn’t want to leave a bad impression on him. Fox is just _so_ tight around his cock, even _with_ the extra care the frog took to lubricate him. Said lubricant is starting to take more of an effect now. It’s causing little prickles of euphoria to stab at the tip of him, like an ant bite that feels good instead of fire on someone’s skin. Slippy’s penis is starting to drip out pre-cum inside Fox in its excitement, but he’s trying to fight the urge to be rough. Fox pistons his hips up when he feels Slippy’s hand squeeze his slit, staving off any impending orgasm he might have had so the frog can finish first just like Falco said. Fox lifts his head off the frog’s collar bone lightningly fast and lets out a noise that closely resembles a cry, and it startles Slippy, who stops his shallow thrusting and retracts his hand, looking at his leader in concerned alarm.

“Foxy? Baby? What’s wrong? Did that hurt you?” Slippy asked, massaging the vulpine’s back. Fox shakes his head spastically, gasping despite the load in his mouth. How can he say to the frog, _fuck me harder, won’t you, please?_ He can’t. He’s sweating, ass occupied like he wants, but he’s desperate for more. Wordlessly, he glances at Falco. His eyes plead with the avian to tell Slippy what he can’t. And Falco looks on in amusement, sets down his wine after having another slurp of it. He thinks it’s a good look for the vulpine. He’s buzzing, the alcohol in him making his mind wander. He’s seen Fox like this before, seen all of them like this before. He knows which positions each of the men he loves adores most, what kinks drive them wild. Fox obviously enjoys getting it like he’s a dog, or having his tail played with or pulled at. Sometimes shy, sweet little Slippy enjoys it whenever the others put their own tongues down his throat, letting the wet appendages overlap and touch each other, or just the good ol’ missionary position, so he can look at whomever’s fucking him. Bill is a combination of both. On days when he feels like giving it rough, he’ll bite the shoulder of whomever he’s buried inside of; when he’s being affectionate like a puppy, he likes to lick long, wet stripes on wherever he’s closest. Falco wishes Bill could see Fox and Slippy now. If he were here instead of on Fichina, Bill would scold him gently for not kissing Fox, even as the hound sat in the avian’s lap and mauled his beak with moist kisses of his own. They’d been like that once. Fox making love to Slippy, the latter’s legs on his shoulders, panting and drooling for vulpine dick, and Bill meanwhile pinning Falco against a wall and suckling at his pulse point as he ground their bodies together. His groin swelled at those images, and he smirked.

“You’re not hurting him, Slippy,” Falco chuckled languidly. “You’re just driving him insane.” Falco guzzled down more droplets of wine, not even close to tipsy. Slippy looked at him in alarm, then confusion, then he blinked. Falco continued by saying, “He wants you to really shove it in there, Slip. Really make him feel it. You know how he is.” Fox whimpers, confirming it. Fox stared back at the avian with glazed eyes. “Isn’t that right, Foxy? You just need Slippy to pick up the pace, don’t you?” Fox let out a noise that he tried to make resemble a “yes.” It must have been clear enough because Falco smirked and said, “Well, there’s your answer, Slip. Now come on. Fuck him harder. I wanna see him limping tomorrow. I want it to hurt his ass to even sit in his Arwing.” Fox groaned low in his throat at the sound of all that. He _wanted_ all of that, too. He knew Slippy was just loving and tender by nature, that he didn’t have Falco’s aggression or Bill’s lewdness, but he needed to cum so bad. Slippy could be rough with him, Fox wouldn’t mind it. Fox lets his head drop onto Slippy’s shoulder again, turning so they can stare at one another, trying to make it where Slippy can read it in his eyes that _yes, Slippy, it’s okay for you to go harder, rougher, I just want it so bad, please._ Slippy’s heart pitter-patters in his chest. Fox’s pupils are enormous, lust-filled things. Slippy remembers how Fox had been loving to him when he'd been the one on the bottom. Fox had whispered sweet things into his ear as he entered him, making the frog see stars. Fox had been—still was—a thoughtful lover. Slippy decided that he’d do it, but only if Fox really wanted him to.

“I. . .” Slippy shook off his worry, and spoke to Fox. “Is that true, Fox? You really want me to give it to you? Really go in deep?” Fox nodded eagerly, and Slippy looked at him with a sheepish smile. “You sure?” Fox let out a groan that signaled equal parts frustration and assuredness. Slippy nodded himself. Fine. “Alright then. You want it rough, Foxy? I’ll give you rough. I’ll do more than that. I’m gonna ride your ass so hard you’re not gonna need to get inside that pissy Arwing of yours. No. It won’t even cross your mind. Tomorrow, you’re gonna be crawling to my workshop, begging me to fuck your tight ass again. But don’t worry, I’ll leave my door open for you.” Falco’s eyes widen. _Fuck,_ he thinks to himself. Who would have thought Slippy Toad had it in him to say all that? Falco now is almost a little jealous that he’s not in McCloud’s place. And the frog doesn’t give Fox a lot of time to absorb those words as Slippy makes good on his threats as he pushes in with such a brutal thrust that it rocks the vulpine forward and knocks the wind out of him. Fox scrambles against his chains as Slippy squeezes the base of his dick, preventing orgasm. He’s thrashing, pushing back against the cock that’s spearing him open. Fox’s voice is echoing off the walls, unabashedly. Slippy pushes the vulpine’s knees off the floor with every thrust, tonguing Fox’s pulse as he does. Fox can barely breathe. His face is hot and his tail’s twitching like it’s on meth and Slippy just keeps plunging into him, and Falco can’t take it anymore, he’s so turned on, he gets up from his chair, briskly unbuckles his belt, halfway pulling down his trousers, and brusquely walks over to Fox and yanks the gag out of his mouth, slotting their mouths together messily as Fox can only manage to let out a startled gasp at the contact of it and no longer being muzzled before Falco swallows those noises down. Slippy chuckles, grinds his cock at the root of Fox’s hole, driving the vulpine mad. His cock dribbles out slick and pre-cum in its excitement of owning Fox McCloud’s ass. Slippy’s gyrating forces Fox to propel forward and bump erections with Falco, and in turn the avian crushes their bodies together in a single fluid movement. The frog’s cheeks are tinted pink, and his breathing is erratic. He lets out the most adorable noise as he finally cums, and Fox can already feel the warmth flood his sore channel as Slippy’s muscles go lax. He doesn’t pull out, though, just stays behind Fox as he nuzzles the vulpine’s scruff. Fox shudders and shakes as Falco grips them both and jerks. Fox rips his mouth away from Falco’s and lets out the most undignified noise as he spills himself dry, heaving, quaking, panting as he rides out his orgasm. It took him a few seconds to register that Falco came, too.

Fox goes limp when Slippy finally does unsheath himself from his aching hole. He’s exhausted and looks ready to pass out. Rattling can be heard as the cuffs around his wrists are unlocked and fall away, along with the ones choking his ankles, and he’s glad Falco already removed the one that had been fastened around his neck a short while ago. Their are red lines where the cuffs dug into his skin, and he’s completely wrecked and sweaty. Still, his whole body is thrumming with pleasurable aftershocks. Cum is drying under his navel, and Slippy’s fluid is dripping from of his fucked out ass, and Falco’s seed mixes with what’s under his belly button as well. He falls forward a bit, but Falco catches him with strong wings wrapping around his lower back—Slippy giggles at Fox’s sloppy movements and McCloud smiles through one eye as his head rests on the avian’s broad chest. Falco stays like that, letting the vulpine catch his breath. Once he does, they’ll clean each other up and all snuggle in bed together. And the vulpine’s eyes are already heavy, demanding sleep. Civilians may ask about the scars, General Pepper as well, thinking they’re marks of war or run-ins with petty criminals. But the next time they see Bill, he’ll know what they mean, and he’ll smile despite not having any marks on Fox to call his own at the time. But that’s okay, because next time, he will, and it’ll be all four of them again, just like it was meant to be. Fox lets himself be lost in Falco nuzzling him and Slippy sucking a hickey into the side of his neck, knowing they love him.


End file.
